


Police, open up!

by queenofcrossroads



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Anything that involves money is non-con to me, Barely dub-con?, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7691383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofcrossroads/pseuds/queenofcrossroads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are at a bachelor/bachelorette party when two hot cops knock at the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Police, open up!

**Author's Note:**

> For the anon who requested GOB/reader. 
> 
> Tried to make it gender neutral but it didn’t work great, sorry.
> 
> I am not for strippers but it was either this or him following people to their cars and that was even worse.

You are taking a shot when somebody knocks at the door.

-“Police, open up.”

You freeze. Were we making too much noise? But it isn’t even midnight on a Saturday, come on. A couple of the other guests are clearly not having the same tribulations, though. The brunette -whose name you cannot remember- jumps at the door and opens it. Two men dressed as police officers (in shorts) barge in with a big stereo playing a funky tune that sounds familiar.

-“We heard someone was being naughty”, the huskier one says and heads for your friend, the one who is getting married.

The other one seems to take offence at this and tries to stop him when his eyes lock on you. It is an intense stare that you cannot help but break, but it is too late: he is coming towards you. With a swift move, he’s thrown you onto the chair behind you. You try to tell him that it is really not your _thing_ , that you think he is very handsome but do not want this _at all_. He seems to take the compliment alone and grins and suddenly your legs feel wobbly, because that crooked smile should be what is illegal.

Next, you notice his freckles. There’s a constellation in his face and while he is dancing on top of you, he is still looking into your eyes. That’s when you look into his, and you cannot help to be blown away. Are they blue? Are they green? They are so deep that you get lost in them, that is what.

He smiles again, this time with more mischief and starts rubbing more intently. And yes, there it is, a big bulge against your thigh, moving back and forth and making you hotter and hotter in the process.

He moves his face closer to yours ever so slightly, as if asking for permission and you try to close the distance but he goes for your neck instead. You are disappointed but definitely cannot complain. You are trying not to make any embarrassing noises when a male voice cuts through the commotion across the room that you were barely registering, “Gob, watch it.” But Gob ignores him and keeps sucking and nipping at your vein.

He grabs your hand and tries to put it on his bulge but you take it away, ashamed, and look away. He picks up on that and stands up, but before you can make complaints, he offers you his hand and pulls you off the chair. Trying to be inconspicuous, he gives you a look and searches for a room. You realize his intentions and guide him to the guest room, while in the process getting cheered by your friends. The only one who is not having any of it is the other stripper, who gives Gob another warning, “Dude, you’re gonna get sacked.” But he keeps walking and dismisses him with a “Yeah, yeah.”

If you needed another reason to follow him (or rather, let him follow you), you need not look any further. His deep voice, almost like a growl, fills every cell in your body and now _you_ are pulling him.

You throw all the bags and gifts on the bed away and cringe a little when you hear something break. Gob seems not to notice and pushes you again, this time on the bed. He takes off his shirt, and that is where his dominant attitude ends. Noticing, you surge forward to kiss him but he faces away _again,_ so you go for his nipple. He moans deeply and grabs your hair, so you reach into his shorts and start rubbing him off. He is hard and dripping and you get the feeling that this might not last much longer, so you pull his shorts and thong down and flip him on his back. He tries to grab your shirt but you beat him to it and take it off, along with your pants, underwear and shoes. The look in his eyes is priceless.

Praying to god to find a condom in the night stand, you reach for the drawer and almost break out in praise when you in fact find one.

He starts a sentence along the lines of “it doesn’t feel the same” but clearly the look in your eyes discourages him. He puts the condom on and you touch him again but he hasn’t softened a bit. Placing yourself on him, you grab his hands and place them on your nipples, guiding a move that is guaranteed to make you hotter. Now you rock tentatively back and forth, and it causes him to start cursing. You decide that any sound coming fro his mouth is _good_ , and go a little faster.

You remind him of the _move_ (asshole won’t stop thinking about himself for a second) and find yourself closer to the edge, trying to pleasure yourself but not him because any sudden move might make him come. He comes anyway and you keep riding him until you are done yourself, because even though he is clearly somewhat uncomfortable, he is enjoying as much as you.

When you finish you get dressed but he is still on the bed, covered in sheets. He speaks to himself, “ _I_ am the older brother” in a melancholic voice.

You look at him and consider whether you should ask him about it, when a voice comes from the other room. “Come on, let’s go.”

He looks at you and raising his shoulders, he tells you, “I guess that’s me. Do you mind?” and you try to understand what he is talking about when he glances at the door. You are still working your shoes, but there is urgency in his voice and you leave anyway. The other guests congratulate you while the stripper seems annoyed. When Gob comes out, they leave without a goodbye and you try not to look sad in front of all the people.

At 5 am while you are walking home wasted, you put your hands in your jeans and find a card with a number on it.

“GOB Bluth. Professional magician.”

You smile and say to yourself, “How he’d do that?”


End file.
